there, on the treadmill is The Housewife
she’s nondescript, bulging and Sisyphus
I feel the rock of her undoing
rolling over her, before I see it
in her eyes.
a few machines down is the Construction Worker
you can smell him before you see him
he’s weather worn leather skinned
mouth agape, eyes wide and glued to TV
slaking his thirst and
buying what
they’re selling him.
He’s meat and potatoes, with
the metabolism & constitution of a bull
almost taste the cold beer & cheeseburgers
three generations of domestic violence
and breeding
almost feel his rage
when he gets home
and nothing
is the way
he wants
it.
at the weight pile is Date Rapist
he’s pristine and rippling
gold skinn’d and baby’s ass soft
chemically chiseled
he stares at himself in the mirror,
robotic and poised, he’s billowing sculpted air
each repetition a mantra
that everything
that is not him
simply isn’t
enough.
Frail & Self-less stands nearby
doe-eyed & deferential
waiting for him to speak
she avoids the meatheads
circling around
trying to cop a better look
to size up her tits and ass
memorizing every
fragile terrified
inch of
her.
Date Rapist finishes his set
he doesn’t change his expression
orders her to the bench
hands her two barbells
and she starts doing what he says
because that’s
what he said
to do.
The Jesus Dude chews his gum loudly
he’s wearing new sweats
and the same grin
every day
he’s always smiling
and he’s always trying to get
Jesus all over
everyone.
Middle Age Friendly Guy
works his chest nearby
probably hates his life & masks it
smiling, chatting it up with anyone,
going to the gym, driving a fast car
and giving the impression
that he’s middle-aged
healthy, talkative, friendly
& enjoys
people.
Hot Bitch is running
she has a sweatshirt tied around her waist
a ring on her finger
and headphones blaring
jammed into her ears
the sweat shirt is for the perverts,
the headphones for the hopeful,
and she’s running because
it helps kill the pain, confusion
and ambivalence of the ring
and why she’s wearing it
in the first
place.
Married Pervert Guy chats it up
with Date Rapist, they High 5 and jive
they talk loudly of sports, bars
and Sports Bars.
Frail and Self-Less stands
close by smiling vacantly
poised,
obedient
and
waiting.
And then there’s me
no less and certainly no more
I’m full of horror at the mirror
in rage when not in control
chiseled and vain
preaching but not about Jesus
near suicide and full of laughter
silently pining for the ambivalent beauties
lusting and lurking,
with all of this at the surface
stumbling–aware, awake and
terrified–out into another day
ready for battle
just like
the rest
of
them.
— East Los CA 7-11-04

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